


NSFW Kink Prompt Requests: GW Edition

by Crown_of_Winterthorne



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crown_of_Winterthorne/pseuds/Crown_of_Winterthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of nsfw drabbles/ficlets based on <a href="https://crown-of-winterthorne.tumblr.com/post/144710259027/thread-starters-kink-edition">this list of prompts.</a> All are kink themed and are varying levels of explicitness. </p><p>As per my usual: Warnings will be at the beginning of each chapter. Each title will include pairing and the prompt.</p><p>Two additional prompts ended up as their own full-length fics, so if you liked this collection, please read Needful Things (1x2x5) and Be Cruel (2x3x6)!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Wrap your hands around my throat.” (1x3)

**Author's Note:**

> **8\. “Wrap your hands around my throat.” (With a side of #33, “You’re pathetic. If I wasn’t willing to fuck you, no one would.”)**
> 
>  
> 
>  **Pairing:** 1x3  
>  **Requester:** claraxbarton  
>  **Summary:** They have an understanding. No visible marks. No permanent damage.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: Asphyxiation. Unhealthy relationships. Bastard Trowa (I’m sorry!)  
> **  
>  **Explicit.**

It was never gentle between them. Heero didn’t think that either of them even knew how to do gentle. It was always a lot of nails and teeth and barely restrained anger that had nothing to do with how they felt about each other and everything to do with how they felt about the world. About themselves.

Heero hooked his ankles around Trowa’s hips, dug his fingers into his shoulders and spat a curse as his hands were wrenched away, pinned to the mattress. He struggled because he couldn’t not struggle. He arched up into Trowa, feeling his body ache with each heavy, sharp thrust of hips.

“Wrap your hands around my throat,” he growled.

Trowa tossed back his hair, a rough chuckle escaping him. Heero could see his green eyes glint in the darkness and his wide smile was predatory. He fucked into him harder, gripped his wrists a little tighter.

“You know the rules, Heero. You don’t tell me what to do in bed.”

Heero didn’t bother protesting. It wouldn’t do any good and the faster he gave in, the sooner he’d get what he wanted. He licked his lips, closed his eyes against the words. “Please. Will you please choke me, Trowa?”

Another smile, a flash of white teeth in the dark. Heero shuddered, feeling the bite mark in his shoulder ache. How he hated himself for these nights, for giving into anyone and letting them see him weak. For allowing Trowa to make him weak. He wasn’t even sure anymore, if he was _allowing_ anything. Trowa would do what he wanted and if Heero’s desires coincided with his own, then that was what they did. Heero’s only real choice consisted of opening the door and letting Trowa in. Beyond that, the only rule was no visible marks or permanent damage.

Heero would be wearing high collars for a few days.

One big hand slid around his throat, pressing hard enough for Heero to feel his pulse against Trowa’s fingers. Hard enough to give him the threat of danger. His own hand freed, Heero reached down to stroke his cock. He was wet with precome, sensitive to the barest brush of his fingers and he hissed as he wrapped them around his length.

“You close?” Trowa asked, then cut off Heero’s air before he could answer. Heero’s other hand, the one that he still pinned, flexed. He arched under Trowa, mouth falling open in a silent plea. “You’re so close. I know.”

Heero groaned, the sound strangled by Trowa’s grip. He wanted to fight against the words, to refuse to surrender, but wasn’t that why he had allowed Trowa into his bed in the first place? Because no one else would force him to submit, no one else would hurt him the way that he needed. They all thought him too pure. Too strong.

Trowa knew the truth of him. Forced him to see the truth, in all its ugliness.

“You’re pathetic,” Trowa hissed next to his ear, releasing his hand so that Heero could drag air into his lungs. Then he squeezed again and Heero knew he wouldn’t let go this time until it was over. “If I wasn’t willing to fuck you, no one would.”

And there it was. The tears sprang to Heero’s eyes and he tried to tell himself that it was exertion, the lack of air. But Trowa’s whispering voice into his ear reminded him otherwise.

He drove into Heero harder, the slap of skin steadily growing faster. Bruising. Punishing. Heero would have sobbed if he’d had the air to do it. Instead, he worked his cock with almost painful strokes of his hand, lifted his hips into each sharp thrust even as he started to fight for breath. Trowa’s cock seemed to reach deeper, stretch him open wider. Sparks appeared at the corners of his vision. His pulse thudded loudly in his ears, impossibly so. The panic tried to set in. He fought it back, let the waves of blackness start to wash over him.

“That’s it,” Trowa purred, watching his face with something like affection. Heero knew better. There was no affection between them. That had never been what this was about. They weren’t about things like love and kindness. Just blood and pain and anger and _release_.

And then he was drifting and Trowa was murmuring something, kissing his ear. The air he sucked into his lungs was painful. Cold. His hand and stomach felt wet and dimly, Heero realized that at some point, he’d come. He heard Trowa moaning. Felt the heat that filled him. Heero lay back, panting, shuddering, his body curling with sensation. 

“We’re going to ruin each other.” His words were less than a whisper, mouth making the shapes without any sound. Trowa didn’t need to hear him. He could read lips too.

“No,” he kissed Heero. He never kissed Heero. “I won’t allow that. But I might ruin _you_.”


	2. “I’m going to tie you to the bed posts and have my way with you.” (1x2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **24\. “I’m going to tie you to the bed posts and have my way with you.”**
> 
> **Pairing:** 1x2  
>  **Requester:** cylinanightshade  
>  **Summary:** It's all about trust. Duo won't let him fall.
> 
> **Warnings/Additional: Bondage, Piercings, Tattoos  
>  Mature**

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to tie you to the bed posts and have my way with you.”

Heero raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

Duo turned, dangling several lengths of rope from his hands. “What?”

“You do realize that I can get out of that, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Duo tried not to laugh. “Heero, I’m not doing it to actually restrain you. I’m trusting you not to break free. Just like you’ll be trusting me not to hurt you. That’s what it’s about.”

“Don’t we already do that?”

“Not like this,” Duo shook his head, stepping closer. He flipped a loop of rope around the back of Heero’s neck and drew him forward. Kissed him softly. “Try it for me. Please?”

Heero’s frown was suspicious but he nodded and let Duo strip him of his jeans and tee. He arched his neck when Duo kissed it, eyes falling shut. His doubts remained but Duo had never asked more of him than he’d been willing to give. It wasn’t a hardship to permit Duo to push him onto their big bed—their one luxury.

“How do you know to do this?” he asked, watching Duo loop the rope around the sturdy headboard’s post. The knot he used looked secure, but the one he used around Heero’s wrist was meant to untie quickly. It wouldn’t hold him unless he allowed it.

“Let’s chalk it up to my misspent youth and leave it at that,” Duo smiled, cryptic, and bound Heero’s other wrist in the same manner. He tested the ropes, nodded to himself, and squeezed Heero’s hand. “I’m trusting you not to tear free. You can, but I don’t want you to. If you feel like you _need_ to be free, if you want me to stop, I want you to say ‘black.’”

“Why black?”

“Because I say so,” he leaned across the mattress, kissing the corner of Heero’s mouth, “and because I know you. You say things like 'please, don’t,’ when you mean 'please, don’t stop.’ We need to be clear, okay, babe?”

Heero nodded. “I get it.”

“Good.”

Duo ran his hand down Heero’s bare chest and stomach. He used his nails along his side, making him twitch and squirm. Heero growled and pulled away as much as the ropes would allow. He wrapped his fingers around the rope, pulling at the knots on the bedposts but not testing the weak ones holding his wrists.

“Don’t break the bed either, hm?” Duo warned as the posts creaked. He brushed Heero’s hair out of his face, caught his gaze and smiled. Heero stopped pulling.

“That’s better. You’re fucking beautiful like this, you know.”

Heero rolled his eyes, but he was blushing and the faintest smile quirked his lips. Duo had always been too free with his compliments. Still, when those violet eyes looked at him that way, with such heat an affection, Heero had to believe him.

Duo smiled wider and stroked Heero’s side again, careful not to tickle him this time. Heero relaxed under the firmer touch, though he shivered when rough fingertips traced down his hipbone, where he had always been sensitive.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” Duo urged, brushing the ropes alone the length of Heero’s thigh and past his knee. “Yeah, just like that. I want you all spread out for me.”

He bound Heero’s ankles to the footboard in much the same manner as his wrists, but used stronger knots. Heero would still be able to get free if he had to, but he suspected that if he needed his legs free before his hands, they’d have issues more serious than broken trust.

Duo hissed a soft, appreciative breath and Heero had to smirk, a rush of satisfaction filling him as Duo pressed a hand to the swelling in his jeans. His own cock was half-hard with an anticipation that surprised him and from Duo’s touches, which didn’t surprise him at all.

He was patient, blue eyes watching as Duo shed his black button-down, baring pale skin and the colorful sacred heart on his chest. Heero took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as Duo climbed up onto the bed, popping the button on his black jeans and letting them hang low on his hips. He looked predatory. Hungry and delectable all at the same time. The silver bisecting his nipples glinted in the dim light and if Heero had been able, he would have kissed those piercings, flicked them with tongue and twisted with fingers until Duo moaned for him to stop.

Duo saw his stare, chuckled low in his throat and lifted a hand to his chest. He traced his fingertip over the tattoo, following the outlines of heart, flame and thorny crown.

“I know, right? Not being able to touch? It’s gotta be so frustrating.”

Heero bit back a retort. Duo was likely to tease him more if he protested—aside from the bindings, this all felt familiar. Duo’s playful moods could either be wonderful or the most irritating thing in the ESUN.

Duo smiled, noticing his restraint. Heero wondered how he could have ever thought the other man lazy and unobservant. He missed nothing, least of all when it came to reading Heero’s moods and reactions. He sensed that Duo might use that against him tonight and found the idea thrilling. He flexed his hands again, shoulders rising and settling against the pillows.

“You’re starting to understand now, aren’t you?” Duo palmed Heero’s cheek, cupped his jaw and kissed him slowly, sliding his pierced tongue inside of his mouth with the confidence of one who knew his lover inside and out. It wasn’t claiming, rather an offer of all that he had to give.

He straddled Heero’s hips, purposefully gliding his denim-clad ass over Heero’s erection. Heero moaned softly, twisting his lower half as Duo settled down, wanting more contact. Needing it.

“Easy,” Duo purred, laying his palm on the center of Heero’s chest. Kissed his breastbone. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Heero nodded, breath gone shallow. “I know.”

“You trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Oh, Heero. I’ve never wanted your life,” he smiled, leaning in to tease their lips together again. “Just your heart.”


	3. “I want to make you bleed.” (6x2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **12\. “I want to make you bleed.”  
> **  
>  Pairing: 6x author’s choice (so, naturally, 6x2)
> 
>  **Requester:** simulacraryn  
>  **Summary:** Duo wants something from Zechs.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings/Additional: bdsm elements, and talk of knifeplay and markings, but overall, this is actually pretty tame. Tattoos and piercings. Established D/s relationship.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Mature**

“I want to make you bleed.”

It was said so quietly, so casually and matter of fact that Zechs wasn’t quite sure he had heard Duo correctly at first. He looked up from his book to where Duo sat on the floor of their living room, sharpening one of the many knives he kept with him at all times. Guns were strictly forbidden inside the building that Preventers claimed as headquarters, but like the other Gundam pilots, Duo refused to be unarmed. Ever.

Une had called it paranoia until the first time Duo had been attacked by an ex-Alliance soldier in the supposedly safe halls. After the second time, she had cleaned house and allowed him as many knives as he wanted.

There hadn’t yet been a third time.

So Zechs knew how good Duo was with a knife when he was defending himself. Had even seen how good he was when he was the one doing the attacking. That didn’t mean he was willing to put himself under one of those blades.

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say, Duo. I’m not a masochist.” He didn’t add that he wouldn’t be submissive to anyone either. Duo knew all of this. Accepted it. Or so Zechs had thought.

“I know,” Duo said quietly. He didn’t look up from the blade—it was the big, wicked looking Bowie knife that he kept at the small of his back.

Duo had dark moods—they both did—but Zechs was unused to the prickle of fear that worked down his spine. Theirs was a relationship that worked on trust and something that resembled love but neither one would admit to. They had firmly established boundaries in and out of the bedroom. That Duo was suggesting something so far out of bounds had Zechs wishing for a blade of his own, though he quashed that down with a firm hand. He was sometimes scared for Duo, but he would not be afraid _of_ him.

“If you know, then why are you suggesting it?” Zechs was proud of the way that his voice didn’t waver, nor go dark and dangerous.

“Not like you’re thinking,” Duo frowned and Zechs felt something loosen in his chest. Duo wasn’t looking at him, was keeping his eyes cast anywhere else and the knife simply offered a distraction.

“So tell me.”

“I want you to bleed me too,” he said softly, testing the edge of the blade against his thumbnail. “I want… I want to be marked. And mark you in return.”

“I thought we already did that,” Zechs thought of the small tattoo on the inside of Duo’s thigh. The one over his own heart.

“We picked them. We didn’t put them into each other’s skin.” Duo sheathed the blade and looked up, his face open and honest now that he’d tested the idea and found Zechs willing to discuss it. “I want to cut my mark onto your skin. With my knife. My hands. Make you mine with flesh and blood.”

“To own me?” Zechs arched one fine eyebrow.

“No. No, not…” Duo rubbed at the back of his neck, looking away again. “I know you wouldn’t allow— _I_ would. I’d allow it. You know that, right? That I’d let you own me?”

“I thought I already did that too.”

Duo smiled in spite of himself and Zechs thought that he rather liked seeing him at a loss for words, flustered and blushing.

“Yeah. You do. But…” he sighed, shaking his head. “You marking me, owning me… I want that. But I want to mark you… to make myself part of you. Does that… does that even make sense?”

Zechs tipped his head to one side, held out his hand. “Come here, pet.”

He hadn’t intended for Duo to crawl across the floor, looking like a tame panther, but that’s what he did. Zechs sat up on the sofa, watching him with an appreciative eye. Now that he understood—or thought that he understood—what Duo was asking, he felt steadier. Duo, on the other hand, looked a little lost. Uncertain. That would never do.

Zechs drew Duo up onto his lap, sliding his hand up his thigh until it was resting over the place where the tattoo was hidden by faded black denim. His knuckles brushed against Duo’s groin and the younger man exhaled a shaking sigh. Zechs wrapped his other hand in Duo’s braid, gathering the rope of hair at the nape of his neck and pulling lightly.

“You want the experience more than the mark, don’t you?” Zechs asked, watching Duo’s face. His eyes were downcast, lashes fluttering, and his lips slightly parted. He was keeping his breathing carefully under control and there was a tension in his shoulders that had eased slightly when Zechs spoke. “The memory of it.”

“Not quite. But yeah. A little.” He glanced up to meet Zechs’ pale eyes. “Look, I know you don’t like pain the way that I do. And I know that you don’t like to feel out of control. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“I’ll admit,” Zechs confessed, “I did think at first that you intended for me to submit to you and your knives.”

Duo smiled, shaking his head. “No. I wouldn’t… I know you would never allow that.”

“I feel as though I should apologize for that.”

“Why? You never have before.”

“No. No, I haven’t,” Zechs sighed. He adjusted his grip on Duo’s braid, pulled it tighter as if to reassure him with the pressure. “How long have you wanted this, pet?”

“Awhile. I thought it would go away after we got the tattoos, but… it wasn’t me. I wasn’t the one who put it into your skin.” He bit his lip and Zechs let him take his time, gather his thoughts. “You put your marks onto me all of the time. When I look at my skin, even though there’s no scarring from you… I know that you own me. Heart and fucking soul, Zechs. There’s not an inch of me that doesn’t belong to you. I take you with me everywhere I go. I want… I want to know that you take a piece of me with you.”

“You want reassurance that you belong to me. That I can’t ignore you.”

“And that I’m always with you. The way… the way you are for me.”

“If I let you do this,” Zechs said quietly, refusing to smile when Duo’s face brightened with hope, “ _if_ I allowed it… what would you carve into my skin?”

“Two. In Roman numerals,” he answered quickly and Zechs knew that he really had been thinking about it for awhile. “Next to your tattoo.”

“And what would I give you?”

Duo shivered and Zechs wanted to give this to him just to see him react like that. He squeezed his thigh, traced his thumb over the hidden swirls and pattern.

“Anything you want,” Duo promised, “but…”

“You want a six to match.” It wasn’t a surprise, nor was Duo’s willingness to let Zechs choose. It was touching, this generosity and trust. Zechs realized that he sometimes took it for granted.

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

Duo smiled, soft and open. “Over my heart, of course.”


	4. “Better be quiet or they’ll hear you.” (Dx1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **54\. “Better be quiet or they’ll hear you.”  
>  Pairing:** Dx1
> 
> **Requester:** gundamwing-ellesmith  
>  **Summary:** It's never easy guarding the ESUN President when she's also your lover.
> 
> **Warnings/Additional: hints of D/s and femdom. Established relationship.  
>  Teen+**
> 
> Well, this turned out surprisingly gentle…

Heero bit his lip, blowing out a slow, controlled breath. This was not what he had intended when he agreed to accompany Dorothy to the opera. He should have known better. He knew that. He had hoped, however, that she might take his work as bodyguard seriously. That she might take her own position as President seriously.

“We can’t do this here,” he told her, trying to sound like the head of security should. Confident. Firm. In control. Not like a man in a private box at a centuries old theater who had his part-time lover’s hand down his tuxedo pants.

“Then you’d better be quiet or they’ll hear you,” she smiled innocently, her lips blood red to match her gown. She should not have been so intimidating, seated and ladylike while he stood at her shoulder, hands itching for the gun at the small of his back.

“Dorothy…”

“Oh, Heero,” she scolded, laughing quietly. “That’s Madame President to you.”

He growled low in his throat and gripped her wrist, intending to drag her hand away. She squeezed his cock instead, offering the threat of long, manicured nails and he shuddered, even as he glared death at her. Dorothy’s serene smile only widened.

“You know the rules. If you want me to behave myself, Heero, then you need only say it.”

Heero’s pride pricked at the back of his skull, but the truth was that she’d worn him down over these months. It was easier to give in on these small concessions than suffer her games and risk more than he was willing to lose. His dignity was nothing compared to what would happen if they were caught fucking in public.

“Please, Madam President. Allow me to do my job,” he said carefully, pitching his voice low, “and I promise to obey you when we’re back at the hotel, in your suite where I can be sure it’s safe.”

“It certainly won’t be safe for you, my darling. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Dorothy inclined her head, imperious. “As you like.”

She removed her hand and Heero closed his eyes, tried not to think about what she would do to him in their rooms. Tried not to think about how he would enjoy it. Tried to do the job he was assigned to do and not let his nerves eat at him. Dorothy had to know that the anticipation was worse—that was why she allowed him to refuse her more public games.

“Heero,” she said, her sotto voice making him stand up straighter. Wondering what she was going to do next, even though she’d promised to stop distracting him.

“Madam?”

She took his hand in both of her own, strangely gentle. “You’re thinking too hard. Stop.”

He looked down at their hands, felt his heart at the back of his throat and swallowed hard. Met her pale gaze. Whispered, not for the first time, “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing that you didn’t want,” she answered, not for the last time.


	5. “Clearly, you’ve never experienced silk sheets properly, then.” (6x2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **15\. “Clearly, you’ve never experienced silk sheets properly, then.”**   
>  **Pairing: 6x2**
> 
> **Requester:** cylinanightshade  
>  **Summary:** Zechs buys some new sheets...
> 
> **Warnings: None. This is short, sweet and safe(ish) for work, folks.  
>  General**

Duo tended to forget that despite his status, Zechs had grown up largely in a military barracks. It hadn’t been until Zechs was an officer that he began to take advantage of the wealth and benefits that Romefeller bestowed on its rising stars. He grew accustomed to the finer things in life, but he never truly let himself enjoy it until after the wars. After Mars. Even then, Duo thought that Zechs felt himself a little unworthy of such decadence.

A hedonist at heart, perhaps because he had grown up _without_ , Duo more than encouraged Zechs to take pleasure in both the little things and in the luxurious ones.  So he was delighted to come home to their small flat in New Port and find that Zechs had bought new bedding.

“I was getting used to our cheap cotton stuff,” he teased, running a hand over the plush white duvet. “Are you sure about this? You kept the receipt, right? I mean, what if I don’t like them?”

“Clearly, you’ve never experienced silk sheets properly, then,” Zechs returned with an amused laugh, turning down the duvet and blanket to reveal soft charcoal black sheets.

“Clearly not,” Duo laid crosswise across the king-sized mattress, snuggling down into it. His black tee rode up to display his firm stomach and he smiled, beckoning to Zechs. “So come show me, lover.”

Zechs knelt over him, leaning down to kiss Duo’s quirked lips. His hair fell around them and Duo brushed it back, slid his hands onto Zechs’ broad shoulders and around his neck. One of Zechs’ hands gripped his thigh, hitched it up around his hip and Duo arched up against him. They moved slowly, rocking languidly and kissing deeply, making no effort to take each other’s clothes off.

“I like this,” Duo rubbed his cheek against the sheets, eyes closed in pleasure. “We should get red ones. You’d look beautiful against red.”

“So would you,” Zechs cupped his face in one palm. Kissed his lashes, the bridge of his nose, his chin. “When do you have to leave again?”

“I’m all yours until Tuesday.”

“Good. Because I intend to take my time with you tonight,” he promised, laying a gentle bite against Duo’s throat, “and by the time I’m done, we won’t be able to return these sheets.”

Duo shivered, biting his lower lip even as he laughed. “Gonna ruin them?”

“Going to ruin _you_.”


	6. “Better be quiet or they’ll hear you.” (2x3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **54\. “Better be quiet or they’ll hear you.”  
> **  
>  Pairing: 2x3
> 
>  **Requester:** claraxbarton  
>  **Summary:** When parties get boring...
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: None. This one is also pretty short, sweet and safe for work.  
> **  
>  General

They were both laughing, hand in hand and mostly sober as they ducked into the finely appointed bathroom, locking the door behind them. The heavy door muffled most of the music and chatter of partygoers, but Duo still had to clap a hand over his mouth the stifle a moan as Trowa stroked him through his suit pants.

“God,” he shuddered, tipping his head back against the door to let Trowa suck at his throat, “L-Lena’s going to kill us if we get caught.”

“Then you’d better be quiet or they’ll hear you out there,” Trowa shrugged. “Since when are you the voice of reason anyway?”

“Ha. D'you even _remember_ last time?” he laughed, even as he tucked his foot around the back of Trowa’s calf and drew him closer.

Trowa leaned back, a slow smile crossing his handsome face and memory filling his forest eyes. “Oh. Yeah. Last time was fun.”

Duo groaned and it wasn’t entirely from pleasure. “Oh, my God. I’ve created a monster.”

“To be fair, I was already halfway there when you got hold of me.” He pinned Duo’s hands above his head, pressed the length of their bodies together. “I’ll take the blame when we get caught.”

“You never take the—wait, _when_? Tro—” Duo started to protest but found his words stolen by a kiss. Trowa’s mouth was hot against his, demanding and tasting faintly of bourbon. Their tongues slid together, twining slowly until Duo forgot what clever arguments he’d been planning to use and sighed into the kiss. Trowa twined their fingers together, keeping him trapped against the door and rolling their hips together.

Breaking the kiss, Trowa punctuated it with a gentler, chaste one upon Duo’s lower lip. Duo was panting, his eyes heavy-lidded and glossy. When he looked up, Trowa offered another smile.

“I’ll take the blame,” he said softly.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Then make me scream,” Duo grinned, squeezing his fingers.


End file.
